Lay Me Down on the Cold, Cold Ground
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: Scotty gets roped into fixing the busted transporter, which is fine and dandy until it goes off in the middle of repairs and drops him somewhere unexpected and unpleasant. When he becomes stranded there, Scotty decides it's definitely the worst day off he has ever had. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer:** Entertainment purposes only.

**A/n:** I wrote this for the third Beta Branch oneshot party, where we were challenged to write for a character had never written (or very rarely written). I have discovered exactly why Scotty is one of my least written ST characters – I adore him, but writing his actual dialogue is _hard _(though not as hard as trying to write Chekov! ;D).

_Prompt: Scotty, best guesses, ice & water, cave and/or underground_

* * *

**Lay Me Down on the Cold, Cold Ground**

Ever since the Craylorian Nebula incident, Scotty had been nearly run off his feet with trouble in Engineering. He'd dealt with crisis after crisis, had been awake for days on end, and pulled the ship out of the proverbial fire more than once during the whole thing (Kirk had called him a genius miracle worker – Scotty thought it was quite fitting given the circumstance).

Now that it was over, and his engine was back in beautiful working order, Scotty was granted a reprieve from the ongoing repairs. After sleeping for something like fifteen hours straight, he'd made his way down to the rec room and was currently enjoying a round of one-man pool. He was glad for the time of relaxation and quiet (though the _quiet_ part was probably because he'd essentially threatened everyone with bodily harm if they bothered him on his first day off in _actually bloody forever_).

"Mr. Scott," Kirk sounded exasperated and Scotty already feared what his captain had to say. And was already silently contemplating throttling him with the pool cue in his hands if this wasn't a life or death emergency. "I have a job for you. You busy?"

"Yes. Incredibly. Seein' as how it's my _day off_." It already sounded very much _un_like a life or death emergency. Scotty scowled at Kirk.

"I know. It's just – "

"The one you _promised_. The one you practically _made_ me take. The one I am _very much enjoying_, thank you."

"I know."

"I stopped us from blowing up." Scotty took his shot, but missed the corner pocket he'd been aiming for. "_Three_ separate times. Four, if you count the – well, whatever that was. _Four_ times!"

"I _know_. But, it's the transporter is still on the fritz – no one has been able to fix it. The mechanics are stumped."

In fact, it was three technicians, two mechanics, and one specialist later, and it _still _wasn't working. Which was why Kirk was coming to his Chief Engineer on his day off, even though Scotty had stated very concisely that people were to leave him the _bloody hell alone unless someone is dyin' and it directly involves me. Even then, we have a doctor for tha'_.

"No." The engineer frowned and lined up his next shot. "No, it's my day off."

"I need your help, Scotty," Kirk pressed.

"I'm working _tomorrow_, cap'n, it'll keep. We're no' goin' anywhere."

Scotty tried to return his focus to his game of pool, hoping the captain would just leave and let him be on his _day off _and go find someone else to fiddle with the damn transport. Kirk continued standing there, however, watching Scotty readying his next shot with that maddening blue gaze of his, not saying a word, the bastard.

"Och, all righ' then!" Scotty relented, setting down his pool cue with a noisy clatter, and crossed his arms over his chest irritably.

"Thank you, Scotty," Kirk grinned and clapped Scotty on the shoulder. "I owe you one."

"You owe me another day off. An _actual_ one."

Kirk chuckled. "I do. I appreciate it, Scotty. I need my genius on this one."

Scotty sighed. "Donnae worry, my fair cap'n. Unlike the other _amateurs _you apparently employ, I'll have it fixed in no time."

Famous last words.

* * *

Scotty recruited Lieutenant Peters to come assist him, and left Keenser and Gaila in charge of Engineering in his absence. Peters was about a foot taller than Scotty, all lanky limbs and big brown eyes, and he was one of Scotty's best mechanics. They gathered up some tools and headed off for the transporter room, chatting amiably. Once they arrived, Scotty surveyed the opened panels and exposed wiring left from the other failed repair attempts. It was an absolute _midden_.

"All right laddie," Scotty clapped his hands together. "Let's get to it."

Scotty and Peters pulled apart the control area consoles entirely, as well as the transporter pad and the overhead molecular imaging scanner. After a few hours of tinkering and replacing certain parts here and wires there, Scotty was certain they had yet to find the main problem. They'd discovered a handful of very minor issues, but nothing that should have been causing the sort of transporter misfiring that the ship had been experiencing.

_It's not the biofilters,_ Scotty thought, standing atop the pad. _It's not the scanners, not the pattern buffer, the phase coils or the primary coils._

Scotty scratched his head. That left the transporter console, or perhaps the emitter pads on the ship's hull. They would check the emitter pads very last if it came to it, but since that required suits, harnesses and a spacewalk, Scotty quite hoped they'd be able to solve the problem without resorting to that. He wasn't scared of doing a spacewalk exactly, but if he never had to do one again, ever, that would perfectly fantastic.

As Peters continued working on the console, Scotty sat down on the pad and began putting it all back together. And he was nearly finished, too, when it happened.

Scotty twisted the nacelle wrench and there was a spark. This was followed instantly by a sudden whirring noise, like the transporter was booting up, and Scotty froze.

"Peters? Why's it turning on? I hit something, but it shouldn't be _able_ to turn on."

The mechanic's forehead was creased with confusion as he climbed to his feet, eyes darting back and forth over the transporter controls. "Sir, I don't know – it shouldn't be. It's not even attached to the – "

"Peters, _it's turning on._" Even as he said it, he realized it wasn't just _turning_ anymore, it was _on_. And transporting. Lights circled his limbs and torso as he rolled and hopped to his feet. "It's bloody going!"

"Sir – !"

"No, shut it off! _Turn it off!_" Scotty shouted, feeling the familiar tingle that accompanied being transported.

"The emergency shutdown isn't working!" Lieutenant Peters shouted in panic, stabbing at the console and frantically flipping switches.

Scotty stretched out his arm towards Peters, whose complexion was ashen, and quickly reached for the Chief Engineer. Even as he did so however, they both knew it was too late.

The next moment was one of pure, absolute terror the likes of which Scotty had never truly experienced before. He could be dropped in the middle of space, or find himself inside solid rock. Maybe he'd be split in two by a wall or appear ten thousand feet above the ground. The possibilities were endless with a transporter on the fritz sending him to a pair of random, mystery coordinates.

All things considered, where he _did _end up, could have been infinitely worse. In the next instant, Scotty was almost relieved to discover none of those particular things to be true. _Almost._

The water was so frigid that it completely shocked his system, constricting his lungs sharply and slapping every nerve. It was only experience from accidentally being transported into water two separate times (a college project gone wrong, and his very first time aboard _Enterprise_) that allowed him to _barely_ maintain his wits, fight every instinct and _not_ inhale. He immediately kicked out, swimming up towards the blurry light he could make out in the dark, bluish haze around him.

_SMASH._

Scotty reeled backwards, trying to blink the stars from his eyes in the water and re-orient himself after his head had collided with something horribly solid. He reached up to determine what it was and feel how to swim around it, and as his fingers met the surface under the water, his felt his heart crater into his stomach.

Ice.

He cursed silently in his head and tried not to panic, but that was fast becoming a losing battle. Scotty kicked forwards, keeping one hand above trailing against the rough ice, searching for an opening, a crack, _anything_. His lungs were burning, his limbs sluggish and aching from the cold, his head throbbing. He'd always been able to hold his breath for a bit longer than average, but the cold chopped that tolerance in half. As seconds flew by, he was quickly approaching the threshold where he wouldn't be able to hold it any longer.

He pounded at the ice with his fist, then swiftly turned himself upside down to kick at the ice with his feet. He slammed them against the ice again, and again, and he could feel himself weakening, his chest was screaming, his body desperate for oxygen, and he didn't want to die like this, didn't want to drown, _not because of a bloody transporter accident, dear God no…_

The ice suddenly gave way, and Scotty wasted no time re-orienting himself and shoving his head through the opening. He gasped and gulped at the freezing air the instant his head crested the surface, and the air was cold enough to make him cough, but it didn't matter because it was _air_.

Blinking the moisture from his eyes, Scotty spread his arms out of the hole he'd made and struggled to pull himself out the water. The ice cracked and broke twice, before he finally reached a spot where the ice was thick enough to support him.

His fingers scrabbled on the snowy surface and he grunted, groaned and eventually flopped and crawled onto the ice, a stab of fear shooting through him every time the ice made a cracking sound. Staying on his stomach to more evenly distribute his weight, Scotty painstakingly wriggled all the way to the white shore. The moment he was off the treacherous, frozen body of water, he sank into the snow, momentarily overcome with relief.

Scotty didn't allow himself to rest, however, and forced himself to his feet. Shivering violently, he took stock of his surroundings: the lake he'd found himself in was fairly small, surrounded on all sides by forest. The trees were as snow covered as the ground, making it difficult to identify their type, but they looked similar to the spruce and evergreen trees back on Earth, though some of them had bright yellow or red tree trunks. Overhead, the sky was steel grey with clouds, the hint of a weak winter sun washed out beyond them.

He dug his hand deep in his pants pocket and fumbled for his comm, never more thankful that it was waterproof. After a certain number of away missions and incidents with crew members dropping the Starfleet-issued piece of tech into toilets and sinks, they'd been redesigned to be entirely waterproof. Scotty hoped they were also _bloody cold_ proof as he flipped it open with trembling hands.

"Sc-sc-scotty to E-enterprise," he said, his teeth chattering so hard he could barely speak.

"_Scotty!_" Kirk's voice was bursting with relief. _"Where are you? What happened? Are you alright?"_

"I was in a l-lake," he answered.

"_Are you alright?"_ Kirk repeated.

"Fr-freezing, c-cap'n, but alive."

"_The transporter is still offline, and we're not taking any chances – I'm sending someone down to get you in a shuttle immediately, all right?" _

Scotty nodded, then remembered Kirk couldn't see him. "Y-yessir."

"_We've got a lock on your comm signal. We're coming - stay safe."_

Scotty slid the comm back into his pocket, and rubbed his wet arms, trying to get some feeling back in his fingers and limbs. It was damn cold here – wherever here was. One of the moons of Ayindii, he assumed, as Ayindii itself was supposed to be tropical.

_Figures I didn't get transported down _there _instead_, he thought bitterly.

There seemed to be some dark clouds brooding in the distance, and Scotty didn't think that boded well. Regardless, he decided he needed to find some form of shelter or warmth, or else he was fairly certain he would die of hypothermia before _Enterprise_ could collect him. If could get _dry _then he could get _warm_, and that was his current, most pressing concern. He forced his feet to start trudging through the snow and it wasn't long before he was pushing himself with every step.

At least he had a _little_ bit of luck today, Scotty reflected, when he came upon a boulder-sized opening in the side of a steep, rocky hill. He approached warily; this was an alien planet after all, and though it so far was quite Earth-like, that didn't mean there wasn't something dangerous or carnivorous making this cave its home.

_Or there migh' be a hibernating bear inside_, Scotty thought nervously.

The fact that he had no weapon of any kind made him even more reluctant to enter the dark opening. His body was shivering violently, however, his wet clothes stiff and hard with the cold, and he figured even if it was just a few degrees warmer in there, it'd be better than being out here.

He glanced around and the snow was unbroken in every direction but for his own footprints, so Scotty took a deep breath past his clattering jaw – _please let there no' be any bears _– and ducked into the cave.

Inside, Scotty was glad to note as his eyes adjusted, there was a distinct lack of beasties or bugs (so far). Even better, he was sure it felt warmer than outside – though he did have to admit it could be irrational hope translating to his mind playing tricks on him. He ventured a little deeper, dirt and rocks rustling softly under his feet.

But no, it definitely _was_ getting warmer – and was that… firelight? Scotty squinted in the darkness, but thought he could still make out a sort of dim, orange flickering far ahead, reflecting on the rough walls of the cave.

_As far as I know, bears can't make fire,_ Scotty smiled to himself. He curled his ice cold fingers into a loose fist and blew on them gently to try and warm them a little as he continued picking his way through the cave towards the light.

He was so busy focusing on the light dancing on the wall, that when he had nearly reached the wall, Scotty failed to watch where he was stepping. The ground curved sharply down to the right, and suddenly the engineer found himself tumbling down a steep set of very worn steps, _oof-_ing and _augh-_ing all the way down. He landed in a bruised, cold, dirty heap with an unpleasant _thud_ and groaned.

Scotty raised his head, and yelped when he realized there were approximately a dozen dark bodies staring at him and clambering to their feet. In the next instant, everything was chaos. The humanoid figures started whooping and yelling – in a manner _decidedly_ unfriendly, Scotty thought – as they scooped up a variety of weapons: spears, sticks, clubs, something oblong and gray that looked suspiciously like a big gun. The engineer stood immediately, hands thrown up in surrender.

"I come in peace!" he shouted, for all the good it did. "I just need to get warm! If I could use your fire – "

The figures started to charge him and Scotty wasted no time, getting the hell out of there, dashing up the steps he'd just fallen down. The natives were hot on his heels as he burst out of the cave and took off through the trees, ducking under low hanging branches and hurdling over fallen logs.

At least he felt a little less cold while he was pumping with fear and adrenaline, and while running for his life.

The wind nipped at his exposed flesh, however, and he was still _bloody_ cold. Twice he glanced back to see the humanoids from the cave (wrapped in a variety of furs and unidentifiable coverings, long tangles of hair and bright blue markings streaking their burgundy-ish colored skin) still chasing him through the snow. He forced himself to keep his eyes forward and not dwell on what might happen should they catch up to him.

_Run_, he thought, over and over. _Just keep runnin'. Run harder. Run._ _Crivvens, I don't remember the last time I ran this much._

As the hollers and yelps of the cave dwellers began to fade, these thoughts brought up memories of the time he and Kirk had been running away from a particularly bothered P'krathe (huge, scaly, big antlers – nasty bit of business, that) after they'd accidentally stumbled across her nest. And of the time Kirk had Scotty running across the entire length of the cargo bay on the late Admiral Marcus' ship, the _Vengeance_, to open a wee door in the hull for him_._

Scotty chanced another swift look over his shoulder, and was relieved to see no more dark, fearsome silhouettes in his wake. He allowed himself to feel a little bit relieved, but didn't stop running just yet. He cleared another snow-covered fallen log, and sprinted into a large clearing, where Scotty encountered the best thing he'd seen all day: a shuttle from _Enterprise_, and Sulu climbing out of it.

"Aye," the engineer exclaimed with relief as he stopped to clutch the stitch in side and catch his breath. "Are you… a sigh' for… sore eyes."

Sulu smiled, but then looked his friend up and down with concern. "You all right?"

Scotty bobbed his head in a confused combination of _no_ and _yes _as he panted, "Mighta stumbled int'a… the home of some scary… local fellas." He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "Lost 'em… back there somewhere. I'm fine… it's fine."

"Good to hear," said Sulu, looking amused, damn him. "But before we do anything, I am under strict doctor's orders to give you this immediately, if not sooner."

He produced a thick black jacket and tossed it to Scotty who grasped it gratefully, and put it on. The jacket was still warm from its ride in the shuttle with Sulu, and Scotty practically melted into it, jamming his trembling hands into the pockets.

"And this." Sulu held up a small one man survival pack, complete with a variety of rationed protein packs and a first aid kit.

"Oh for – I haven't even been _gone_ that long."

Sulu chuckled. "Trust me, that was brought up, but Doctor McCoy was very insistent – he said you'd be a lot easier to treat if you weren't _completely_ hypothermic by the time I got you back. You're supposed to eat something and bundle up, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars."

"Och, all righ'. Give it here."

Scotty held out his hand to receive the package, eager to just get on the damn shuttle, and then with a whistling _whoosh,_ a spear sailed past his shoulder. All at once, the humanoids Scotty thought he had outrun flooded the clearing. Sulu and Scotty were instantly surrounded. They made to run for the shuttle's open door, but a trio of bulky, formidable looking locals blocked their way.

"Here!" Sulu shouted and tossed a phaser to Scotty, who fumbled catching it with his numb fingers. It landed with a soft plop in the snow.

He didn't get the chance to retrieve it from the ground as a snarling cave dweller rushed forward, a sharp spear aimed straight at the engineer's chest. Scotty kicked desperately at the snow, sending a spray of the stuff up into the native's eyes. The engineer stumbled backwards away from his attacker, as the cave dweller shouted something very unpleasant sounding. The being advanced swiftly and Scotty ducked when it lashed out with its mighty spear.

For several very confusing seconds, Scotty dodged and avoided a number of the natives. Most of them had descended on the shuttle and were inside, ransacking it for anything of value. Twice Sulu called out, but Scotty was too boxed in to reach his friend.

Somewhere in the mayhem, part of Scotty was aware that these locals didn't seem to be actually trying to viciously _kill_ him, but they weren't exactly being gentle either. He was jabbed in the ribs with a club, his arm was sliced with one of the spears (not too terribly deep, he didn't think, thanks to the thick jacket he was now wearing), and his jaw bruised by an elbow that connected with his face. His thigh was singed by a blaster bolt shot off by the one native with a gun, who seemed to be doing little more than guarding the entrance to the shuttle. Still, it seemed their intent was more to make Scotty leave the area then it was for them to murder him.

Scrambling clumsily, Scotty managed to get under the swinging club of one native, past the clawing grasp of another, and then he found himself on the outside of the band of them.

"Sulu!" he called frantically and spotted his friend face down in the snow. Scotty's heart faltered and he dashed to the fallen helmsman. "Sulu?"

"My knee…" Sulu moaned when Scotty reached him and turned him on his side. The natives seemed to be far less concerned with them now that they were out of the fray, though they were advancing threateningly, weapons raised.

"I think they migh' be lettin' us go alive, but we need to go _now_," Scotty whispered urgently.

"Help me up," Sulu mumbled.

The engineer hauled his friend to his feet as gently as he could, but Sulu still hissed and winced with pain. His knee was bleeding through his uniform and already looked unusually large. Scotty threw Sulu's arm over his shoulders and they hobbled as best as they could through the snow, hastily making their escape under the hostile glares of the cave dwellers.

Scotty only slowed their pace when he was very, _very_ certain they'd left the natives far, far behind.

* * *

The clouds were gathering thicker and darker overhead, and the temperature began to steadily drop. Scotty and Sulu hardly spoke as they doggedly forged through the forest, seeking some form of shelter. The engineer was rather hoping to find another cave, though of course an _un_occupied one this time. They'd come across one cave that had initially looked promising, but when they grew near, Sulu pointed out the footprints around the entrance, and Scotty heard some noise in the distance that suggested the owners of this particular cave were on their way home. The pair quickly moved on.

The good news was that Sulu had somehow managed to hold on to the survival pack _and_ his phaser during the melee. The bad news was that he'd lost his communicator, the survival pack was only supposed to be for one person as opposed to two, and the phaser was almost out of juice.

"We need to… alert the captain," Sulu panted, and Scotty was glad his friend couldn't see his face at that moment as he winced. "Get him to… send another shuttle."

Scotty gulped. He technically still had his communicator, but it'd be smashed to bits in his pocket when he'd taken a blow to the hip with one of those clubs several of the locals had been wielding. In light of them being on the run from some pretty angry natives, in heavy snow, with severe weather building above their heads, Scotty felt it was perhaps better not to explain this rather hopeless little piece of information just yet. At least, not until they had found somewhere safe to take shelter.

"As soon as we're… safe, then," Sulu agreed when Scotty said as much.

Scotty ignored the fear and unease that stole over him, knowing that they had no way to contact the ship, regardless of where they ended up. If _Enterprise_ was trying to get a hold of them – and he suspected they surely were, seeing as how Sulu had not returned with him in tow yet – all they'd be receiving was static.

Scotty's teeth were clattering again, and though the effort of pulling Sulu and himself through the snow had initially warmed him up a bit, it was getting colder out and their pace had slowed significantly. Sulu's forehead was glazed with perspiration despite the temperature as he fought the pain in his leg. This concerned the engineer greatly, and he pushed his own trembling legs harder through the snow, determined to find shelter sooner rather than later.

He didn't say it out loud, but as his hands were going numb holding onto Sulu, Scotty thought it probably couldn't get much worse. Then it began to snow. And not your cute little October snowfall, neither, but your heavy, extra frigid, January blizzard type.

_Perfect_, thought Scotty bitterly. Just what they needed.

"Scotty…" Sulu piped up, his voice small.

"I know, I know," Scotty replied, fighting the worry rising in his chest. "We're almost there."

He felt Sulu laugh rather than heard it. "You know where you're going?"

"Aye, sure I do," Scotty lied and flashed his friend a grin. "It's the ol' Scottish sense of direction."

"Even in a snowstorm?" asked Sulu, reaching up with a shaky hand to brush the gathering snow away from his face and out of his black hair.

"Oh, aye, _especially_ in a snowstorm."

The sky grew even darker and it began to snow more thickly. The wind was cutting and slicing its way past them and through the trees, but Scotty refused to entertain thoughts of giving up and collapsing into the thick blanket of white stuff crunching under their feet. It was growing deeper, almost halfway up his calf now, and it would just be so _easy_ to stop – he was _so_ tired and so bloody, _bloody_ cold…

But he hadn't survived being trapped under the ice earlier only to die in _this_, no, Scotty was stubbornly sure. And somewhere before the sun had officially set, that _tiny_ bit of luck Scotty had had earlier surfaced again: they rounded a patch of trees, and there, nestled between two absolutely massive tree trunks, was a large dark hole in the snowy hill, barely visible in the diminishing light and swirling snow. Better yet, the entrance looked half-caved in, so if Scotty were a betting man, he'd wager that this cave was empty.

"See?" Scotty rasped. "Told you I'd find sommat."

"My hero," said Sulu, his voice dangerously weak.

Getting himself into the opening of the cave wasn't terribly difficult, but getting Sulu through was a different story. His knee was terribly swollen, and Sulu was quivering with the effort of walking for so long and trying not to put too much pressure on his injured limb. The freezing cold didn't help, and Scotty decided he wouldn't be surprised at all if both of them had a serious case of hypothermia at this point.

Sulu crouched outside the cave after a second failed attempt of climbing through the narrow opening himself. He looked up blearily at Scotty, who was inside.

"Just grab my arms and haul me through."

Scotty winced. "You sure?"

"I… I can't," Sulu shook his head. "Just do it."

Scotty swallowed and nodded.

Sulu leaned so all of his weight was on his good knee, then stretched his arms through the hole. Scotty bit his lip, grasped Sulu's hands and hesitated.

"I'll be as gentle as I can," he promised, then added, "Bloody hell, sorry about this."

Sulu shut his eyes and clenched his jaw.

Scotty pulled.

After a few awkward, terrible moments, Scotty managed to maneuver his friend through the hole and into the cave. Sulu did incredibly well, hollering in his throat through a clenched jaw, and twisting when he could in order not to bump his injured knee too much. Once they were both inside and out of the blizzard, Scotty left his friend briefly in order to ensure that the cave was truly empty.

Following a thorough inspection, he discovered that the cave was far shallower that the one he'd entered earlier, and it was indeed blissfully vacant. Clearly it had at one point been inhabited however, judging by the handily large heaps of wood scattered around the back end of the cave.

Scotty let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and returned to Sulu with an armful of wood.

"The place is ours," the engineer announced, sweeping one arm out to the side. He could barely see his friend in the dark of the cave as the snowstorm outside seemed to pick up speed and ferocity, but could make out the relieved grin that split Sulu's exhausted features.

"Now," Scotty crouched and swiftly began setting up a place to make a fire, fighting his frozen, numb fingers. "Make yourself useful and crack open tha' survival pack. There oughta be some matches."

After tossing Scotty a package of waterproof matches, Sulu dug out the space blanket and wrapped it over himself as best as he could. He ignored the frequent soft cursing that came from Scotty as the engineer struggled to build and light a fire, but soon he managed to get it going. Scotty sat back with a heavy exhale and held his icy hands up to the flickering flames, a grimly satisfied look on his face.

The pair spoke little as they and the cave warmed up thanks to the hefty fire. Scotty made a number of trips to the back of the cave for more wood to keep it going, more for something to do than actual need. He was aching all over and he fretted that he'd incurred frostbite when his hands began to throb and stab with pain sharply as they warmed. He also removed his sodden and icy cold socks and shoes so he could warm his feet and dry them out.

Sulu broke out a few protein packs and they _cheers_-ed with them before sucking them back.

"Och," Scotty shook his head and made a face as swallowed. "That is _terrible_."

"What, never had these before?" asked Sulu, even though he already knew the answer.

"Oh, I have had _plenty_ o' these before," Scotty said and chuckled. He tossed the wrapper into the fire and watched it snap and curl in the flames. "I had hoped I would never have to have one o' these again after I got off that _God forsaken wasteland_."

It was Sulu's turn to laugh quietly. "Right. I remember that."

"Punishment. Cruel and unusual punishment."

"You _did_ lose Admiral Archer's beagle…"

"And I said I was sorry!" Scotty threw his hands up. "Repeatedly! Earnestly! And somehow I still ended up eating… bloody _protein packs_ for a disturbing number of months!"

He shook his head and sighed in a long-suffering way, but Sulu just laughed. Scotty tended to tell the tale of his days in purgatory – also known as Delta Vega – to anyone who would listen, especially after he'd consumed a certain number of drinks. There were few crew members who hadn't heard the story at least twice, usually with embellishments too.

"How's the knee?" Scotty inquired, nodding his chin in the direction of Sulu's injured leg, which he'd sort of propped up on a small log.

"Hurts like hell," Sulu grimaced.

"Wha' happened? I mean, I know it was in the, ah, attack, but…"

"They were on us so _quick_," said Sulu, frowning. "I only got a couple shots off before one of them knocked my phaser out of my hand. I was doing alright for a bit, kicking and dodging them, you know. Got a hold of one of their spears and wrestled it out of his hands."

Scotty raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Don't look impressed, he was the smallest one in the bunch, and it didn't last very long." Sulu smirked, then continued, "It was two on one and then three on one, and then one of those clubs of theirs came flying from the left and just – " Sulu made a slicing gesture with his fist and an accompanying sound effect. "Dropped like a bag of rocks."

The engineer winced in sympathy.

"They just kicked me out of their way. When they turned their backs to head for the shuttle, I grabbed my phaser, but I didn't get another shot off before you came to get me." He pulled the weapon from his belt then to inspect it, tossing it lightly in his hand. "It's pretty much dead. Knew I should've charged it before I left, but I wasn't expecting to need it."

"The way our missions seem t' go," said Scotty. "We should stop thinking something bad _won't_ happen."

Sulu chuckled. "That is very true."

"Then again," Scotty leaned back on his elbows in the dirt. "All _I_ was doing was tryin' to fix the damn transporter." He returned his attention to his friend's injury. "Look, is there – should I be, you know. Is there anything I can do?"

Sulu glanced at the cave entrance and the raging snowstorm beyond. It was after dark now, but they could still see the snow blasting past the hole. "They won't be able to come get us until this lets up, so it might be a while until I see the doctor." He dug in the survival pack for bandages and antiseptic. Sulu added, "At least they know where we are."

Scotty's brow crinkled. "How do they know where we are? We left the shuttle way back where, and you donnae have a comm anymore."

"You have yours," Sulu replied. "Don't you?"

The engineer's heart sank low in his chest. He hadn't wanted to mention it to his friend earlier, but now there was no avoiding it. He pulled his comm from his pocket in pieces. Sulu's already paler-than-normal complexion went a little whiter still.

"Oh."

"I donnae s'pose there's any tools in that pack o' yours?" Scotty tried hopefully.

"You think you can fix it?" Sulu asked rather skeptically, staring at the shambles of tech in the other man's hands.

Scotty shrugged. "I've got t' try, haven't I?" He carefully set the wrecked comm down in the dirt and turned back to Sulu. "But firs' things firs'. Let's do sommat about tha' knee."

The engineer crawled over to his friend, who lifted the space blanket off his wounded leg to allow Scotty access. He handed Scotty a roll of bandage, the small knife and the wee bottle of antiseptic. When Scotty cut the cloth around Sulu's swollen knee, he couldn't help the sharp intake of breath that sucked past his teeth at the sight.

Sulu's knee was a virtual rainbow of color, with dried red blood, inflamed skin, and ugly purple and blue bruises. And it was _huge_ – Scotty immediately thought of a misshapen grapefruit stuffed under the skin where the kneecap was supposed to be. The engineer pressed his lips into a thin line and felt his stomach toss uncomfortably. He was no doctor, and had only taken a mandatory Starfleet first aid course a year or more back, but he suspected something here was _definitely_ broken.

"That bad?" said Sulu and Scotty realized he was still staring.

"Uh, sorry," he blinked and pulled himself together swiftly. "Naw, I've seen worse. This is nothing. Donnae know what you've been moanin' about, ye big baby."

Scotty felt immediately a bit better about the situation when he was rewarded with Sulu laughing at the situation. The engineer took a deep breath and returned to the task at hand, and proceeded to get through it as quickly and gently as he could.

He cleaned the scraped and bruised areas with the liquid antiseptic and then wrapped the whole knee tight with the roll of clean white bandage. After he administered one of the three small hypospray ampules of painkiller, Scotty had no clue what else could be done, and Sulu agreed this was probably the best they could do under the circumstances without McCoy present or rescue close by.

They each had another protein pack (Scotty's was apparently "Turkey Sandwich" but it tasted as dull and pasty as the previous one he'd forced down his throat, with no particular identifying flavour), and it was Sulu's turn to tend to Scotty. The engineer doffed his jacket so his friend could clean the scrape on his arm and run the worst of it under the travel sized dermal regenerator (only suitable for superficial injuries like his). Sulu also cleaned up a couple gashes Scotty sported on his head and face that he didn't remember getting, before they closed up the remains of the first aid kit in the survival pack. Sulu soon drifted off to sleep, despite the continual howling wind that barrelled past the entrance to the cave.

Scotty retrieved the extremely limited tool set from the bag (there was a decent variety that he could make do with, though he was dubious about how helpful most of the miniature tools actually would be in the situations they were probably intended for) and set to work trying to repair his ruined comm. He didn't need it to be in perfect order, just preferably "on" and sending his and Sulu's coordinates back to _Enterprise. _

It wasn't easy work with the small, flimsy tools, and doing it by firelight no less, but at least the roaring fire he'd built had warmed him and the cave significantly, so his fingers weren't quite so numb, achey and clumsy (though he still was shivering and there seemed to be a cold spot in chest that wouldn't go away). His socks were dry, so he slipped them back over his feet, though his shoes were still drying by the fire.

After a while, Scotty found himself humming a soft tune as he tinkered and fiddled with bits and wires. His eyelids started to droop but he shook himself and continued stubbornly working.

He thought of the crew back on _Enterprise_, about Peters and what might've happened after Scotty disappeared from the transporter room. He thought about his captain, probably worrying about the lives of his unaccounted-for men. He thought about what might happen if he never got the comm fixed, if the storm never let up, if Sulu never had his knee seen to, if the natives found them and decided they wanted to kill Scotty and Sulu after all.

Scotty thought about never seeing Gaila again, and he worked on the comm with renewed vigor, his previous exhaustion forgotten.

* * *

Kirk ordered another scan of the fourth moon of Ayindii, but there was still no sign of Scotty or Sulu. He raked his hand through his golden hair and settled his chin into hand with a deep, worried sigh.

Shortly after Sulu had landed the shuttle, they'd lost contact with both him and Scotty. They'd at least been able to see their comm signals for a short time, until Scotty's went offline. Sulu's had remained in the vicinity of the shuttle for a while, though their repeated hails received no reply, and then the shuttle's beacon and Sulu's comm signal both went dark as well.

Kirk had wanted to send another shuttle down immediately, this time with more personnel and perhaps some weapons in case the guys had run into some trouble, but then Chekov had reported the region was experiencing a severe snowstorm, making it impossible for a shuttle to safely land.

"If there's a blizzard going on, all the more reason for us to get them out of there," Kirk had insisted fiercely.

"Even if ze pilot can land," Chekov explained. "Ze snowstorm will make it impwossibwle to find zem. Zere is too much interference for ze scanners, and ze wisibilty will be zero."

The kid was right, but that didn't make Kirk feel much better. He had no idea what had happened to Sulu after he landed, he had no idea what had happened to Scotty, and had no idea if either of them were still alive – or still would be by the time the storm was over. That had been several hours ago, and the storm had yet to let up (if anything, it only had grown more intense).

Kirk sighed again and went to stand behind Uhura, who looked as weary as he felt.

"Anything?" he asked unhopefully.

Uhura flipped a few switches but shook her head grimly. "Still just static. No signal of any kind."

Kirk clenched his jaw and stared without seeing at one of the screens before Uhura, void of Starfleet signals on the planet below. He finally blinked and faced Uhura when he felt her fingers give his hand a squeeze.

"They're smart," she said. "They'll make it."

Kirk appreciated her optimism (even if she was only saying it to make them both feel better). There was nothing to do but to keep waiting.

* * *

Scotty had a tool behind each ear, two in his teeth and was wiggling yet another between two damaged chunks of his comm. He was close, he could feel it (and he damn well better be after this many hours fumbling with the thing, he decided). He'd managed to reconnect some of the broken wires, and though it wasn't pretty, he was certain that he might have finally jerry-rigged it so it would at least send a signal if not receive one. He pried apart a couple of fused bits and reattached another wee wire.

Sulu started awake when Scotty whooped loudly, his voice echoing off the cave walls.

"What? What is it?" Sulu whipped his head around blearily, momentarily fearing their cave had been discovered and overrun with vicious cave dwellers.

"I got it, laddie, I _got it_!"

"The comm? It's working?" Sulu sat up straight, heart pounding with hope.

"Well," Scotty cocked his head, holding up the tangle of tech in his hand. "Sort of."

"Meaning…"

"Meaning it migh' no' be much better than merely sendin' a signal, but at least they'll know where are."

Sulu glanced at the cave opening, where it was still was dark and snowy. "They still can't get us."

"Aye, but they'll know we aren't dead yet."

* * *

_Blip._

"Captain!" Uhura gasped and pointed at the screen.

A small dot had appeared on the readout, indicating a live comm unit. It flickered intermittently, probably because of the interference from the blizzard.

"It's Scotty's comm," she reported. "The signal is weak, but it's there."

Kirk exhaled with relief. It wasn't much, but it was something. At least one of them, if not both, was still alive. Now if that damn storm would let up enough so he could send rescue.

_Just hold on guys_, he thought. _Hold on._

* * *

Following the triumph of repairing his comm, Sulu drifted back to sleep and Scotty decided he ought to follow suit, seeing as how he was now out of things to keep himself occupied until the storm abated. In the end, he probably should have just stayed awake.

At first, he had bit of trouble dozing off, worried every time his eyes slid shut that he'd heard a noise and the cave dwellers had found them. Once he succumbed to sleep, he had a handful of nightmares involving the angry natives (and in those dreams, they _definitely_, without a doubt, wanted to viciously kill him and Sulu), followed by nasty dreams about waking up completely buried under tonnes of snow instead of safe in the warm cave. He woke up with his heart slamming against his ribs on more than one occasion, and it was a struggle to fall back asleep.

Several times when he woke up, he retrieved some wood for the fire, which was still burning well and hot, though Scotty still felt cold. He kept shifting closer and closer to the fire until the heat was almost too intense on his face, and somehow the warmth couldn't seem to penetrate his limbs and torso. He tossed and turned fitfully and whether it was the seeping cold or the hard ground, he started to ache.

With no way of telling time, he couldn't be sure if this was the longest night of his life by actual time or confused perception, and either way, it seemed to stretch into endless oblivion. The cave entrance seemed to have grown steadily smaller as the hours whittled by, snow piling up higher and higher near the hole, and Scotty grew colder still.

At one point, he crawled on frozen hands and knees to Sulu, wondering why he hadn't thought of sharing body heat before. He gave his friend a gentle shake to wake up, then a little harder.

"S-sulu," Scotty said, teeth chattering and clicking. "Sulu. _Sulu_."

The helmsman's head lolled and Scotty started, fear spiking in his chest. He could barely feel anything with his fingers at this point, but when he touched Sulu's cheek with his fingertips, his skin felt like a block of ice.

"No, no no no, laddie, don't you dare," Scotty shook Sulu's shoulder and fumbled for a pulse. If there was one, he couldn't feel it.

Scotty let loose a string of curses and then did his best to drag Sulu close to the fire, mindful of his wrapped knee, which was still horribly swollen under the bandages. At one point Sulu moaned softly and the engineer nearly cried with relief – he wasn't dead yet. He put Sulu as close to the fire as he dared, then positioned himself behind him, wrapping the space blanket around the pair of them.

After that, he found it even more impossible to stay asleep (and though he fought to simply stay awake and not try to remain sleeping, his body continually betrayed him and pulled him off to dreamland, whether he wanted to or not). He could feel Sulu breathing, just barely, and would lay there still and staring past Sulu's hair at the fire until his eyes burned and his eyelids closed of their own volition. But then he'd dream that he woke up to find Sulu frozen solid, and he'd start awake and hastily check that his friend was still breathing.

"Cannae be long now," Scotty whispered, exhaustion stealing over him despite his mental resistance to falling asleep again. His teeth didn't chatter anymore and he wasn't shivering, but he thought perhaps his body was too cold to bother anymore. "Cannae be…"

He should eat something. Or drink something. When was the last time he'd done either? He couldn't remember. But doing either of those required effort and movement and he couldn't bear to lose the minimal bit of warmth he and Sulu had left. Maybe he would wait. He would wait until he was warmer, yes, then he'd get some protein to eat…

The fire was burning too low and Scotty found he couldn't find the energy to get up and get more wood. It was too cold, it was just _too cold_. He knew he _had_ to, knew they'd die without that fire, but he was _so tired_.

Dimly, he thought he heard crunching in the snow. Footsteps, maybe, or maybe it was just the wind. Maybe it was an animal. He wondered if the cave dwellers had finally found them. Wondered if they had decided to finish them off. He forced open bleary eyes and thought he could see a dark silhouette approaching the cave through the thin layer of snow covering the cave's entrance.

He let his eyes slide shut again. Let them come. There was nothing he could do about it if they did.

But wait – silhouette? Scotty's brow crinkled slightly. It was still dark out. Dark and storming. Unless –

"Keptin! Keptin, over here!"

Scotty's eyes snapped open. No, he was dreaming again, this was a dream. He swore he'd heard Chekov. Was that the last stage of hypothermia before death? Delirium?

There was a loud scrabbling sound, like digging and scraping. With everything he had left, just in case he really wasn't dreaming, Scotty sat up just in time to see someone bundled in a massive parka, gloves, pants, scarf and goggles poke his upper body into the cave. He pushed the goggles up onto his head, pulled down his scarf and Scotty had never been happier to see _anyone_ in his entire life.

"Scotty," said Kirk. "Tell me you're alive."

"Barely, cap'n," Scotty croaked in response.

"I'll take barely over _not_." Kirk grinned and climbed fully into the cave. He had Chekov and two other crew members in tow, as well as Doctor McCoy and a pair of medical personnel, the latter of which waited outside the cave.

The two ensigns together bent down to scoop up an unconscious Sulu.

"Watch his knee," said Scotty, and the effort it took to merely talk and sit up surprised him. He began to slump back down to the ground, spent and frozen, overcome with relief, but Kirk knelt down with Chekov to catch him.

"We got you, Scotty, don't worry," he reassured his genius engineer. "Just relax."

"Not… a problem…" Scotty mumbled.

The last thing he remembered was McCoy barking orders from under his scarf and goggles as Kirk and Chekov laid Scotty on a stretcher next to Sulu, before he slipped away.

* * *

Consciousness was elusive, but finally Scotty grasped it and held on, emerging from the nothingness with a groan as feeling returned to his body. He was sore all over, but at least he wasn't cold anymore. He realized there was a hand in his and with effort, he forced his eyes open.

Gaila was perched in a chair beside his bed, and as Scotty blinked at the ceiling and at her, he realized he was in the med bay.

"Hello you," Gaila greeted, beaming.

"'Lo to you too," Scotty replied, still a bit groggy.

"You were out for a few hours," she explained. "McCoy had you and Sulu in a recovery chamber to get your body temp up, and then gave you guys some sedatives to make you rest. You were both pretty severely hypothermic."

Feeling more alert, Scotty turned his head fully in search of his friend, but didn't see him. "How's his knee?"

"Broken kneecap. Smashed, actually. McCoy has him in a minor emergency surgery right now." At the look on Scotty's face, she hastily added, "But he's fine, and he's _going_ to be fine. _Minor_ surgery. Promise."

Scotty sunk back into his pillows. Despite having been asleep for several hours, he still felt tired, and his eyelids began to slide closed.

"Oh, and even better, we've think we've figured out what the problem is with the transporter."

The engineer's eyes snapped open. "Ye did? Wait, 'we' who?"

Gaila shrugged. "Me and Keenser. After you went AWOL, Kirk had us go up there and try to help Peters figure out what happened while he sent Sulu down after you."

"Then who was in charge of the engine?" Scotty inquired urgently.

Gaila chuckled then said, "Your baby was _fine_, don't worry. Chekov took care of her while Keenser and I were with Peters."

Scotty held his tongue, momentarily placated, while Gaila continued.

"After we narrowed down the issue, I sent Keenser back to Engineering while Peters and I continued with the transporter."

"So ye fixed it, then?"

She shook her head and a piece of her flaming red hair escaped her bun to bounce and dust her cheeks. "We isolated the problem but we didn't fix it."

Scotty raised an eyebrow. "Why no'?"

"Because _you're_ the genius miracle worker, so we needed you." She beamed at him.

He appreciated her praise (_genius miracle worker_ sounded alright to him), but he was fairly certain she and Peters probably simply had not had the chance to entirely the repair the thing before Scotty and Sulu were rescued. They were more than capable of fixing it themselves, after all, and all _he'd _done was get himself accidentally transported to who-knows-where and almost _die_, a _few_ times. Some genius miracle worker he was.

He squirmed a little in the bed, frowning, and the way Gaila looked at him then told him she knew exactly what he was thinking. She rolled her eyes but before she had the chance to say anything, Scotty promptly shifted the subject slightly.

"What was the problem?"

"A power surge in the D3 circuit board under the pad – fried the connection to the emitters and the console, so that's what was causing all the misfiring," Gaila replied. "So the circuit board will have to be replaced, and we'll have to probably rewire the entire console…"

As Gaila rambled on about the technicalities of the repairs, Scotty felt himself fully relax, letting her voice wash over him – familiar, warm, and beautiful. He gave her hand, still holding his, a gentle squeeze and soon fell asleep listening to the sound of her voice.

**-end-**

* * *

**A/n**: So there was this one time, this brilliant author Metarie wrote these absolutely _perfect_ ST fics where Scotty and Gaila were awesome engineers who fell in love (go read them!). They're _bam headcanon _and I am therefore unable to resist making that ship a thing when I write one of them in any capacity, and this _whoops_ kind of ended up becoming shippy at the end, but I regret nothing. ;D Thanks for reading, feedback is love!


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